Golden Sun: Marked
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: All bore the marks of the past. Sometimes, those marks were left intentionally - a message for future generations.


**Marked**

"Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?"

"No."

"…now?"

Saturos glared at him. "Remember when you first arrived at Prox, and the first thing I told you was to be quiet, and to speak only when spoken to?"

"I guess."

"Three years later, that remains true." The Mars adept's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "Association does not mean affection, Felix of Vale."

"I know." He clenched his fist. "Of course, you speak truly."

"As always. Now come. It is not much further."

That, at least, Felix suspected was true. Hoped was true as well, but he felt that in this case, it was hope that would be rewarded. He had no idea why Saturos had taken him so far east from Prox – when they had set out, the sun was but a glow on the horizon. Now, it was high in the sky, albeit barely visible through the cloud cover of the north, and the constant snow that drizzled down from it. It was always snowing here – Karst had once said that the sky was weeping for Weyard, and for her people most of all. At the time, he had thought little of it – his thoughts three years ago had been along the lines of "where am I?" and "when do I get to go home?" Now, three years older, three years harder, and well at the age when he would be considered a man, he knew the answers.

He was in the north. And he would be going home soon.

Neither of those answers were appealing to him, given the circumstances. But he kept trudging onwards, the snow coming up to his kneecaps. Saturos, being taller, appeared to have no trouble navigating the 'tears of the heavens.' Or maybe it was because he had grown up here. With Menardi, with Karst, with Agito – they bred them hard in the north, as Puelle had once said.

 _Too hard._ Felix felt the side of his chest, where Menardi's scythe had cut into him two weeks ago in sparring. Even now, it still smarted.

"And here we are," said Saturos, coming to a stop.

 _Here?_ Felix raised a hand to his forehead to shield him from the falling snow. They were at a hill that rose up to mountains. He looked at Saturos. "Are we going to climb…"

"The mountains?" Saturos laughed – it sounded unpleasant, as it always did. "No, Felix. Through there."

Felix followed Saturos's finger. All he could see was snow, rocks, and more snow. He looked at Saturos, confused.

"Oh. Let me."

A ball of fire shot out from Saturos's hand. It hit the snow and vaporized it instantly, revealing the bedrock of the hill. No grass here, Felix reflected.

"Behold."

And he saw it. A tunnel at the base of the hill. Large enough for a full grown man to enter without discomfort.

"Come, child of Vale," Saturos said. "I will show you what's inside."

"I'm not a child," Felix murmured.

If Saturos heard, he gave no sign. He just kept walking, and as always, all Felix could do was follow. Once, years ago, he had tried to flee from Prox. It hadn't taken long for him to be captured. What Saturos had done then…He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to shudder. Suffice to say, Saturos had made it clear that any further attempts at mistake would result in even worse consequences. And they might extend further than just him.

"Enter," the Mars adept said, having arrived at the entrance to the tunnel.

Felix lingered outside. He knew it was pointless to resist, but the thought of entering a tunnel, any tunnel, was bad enough. Doing so in the company of Saturos, armed with sword, and fire psynergy more mighty than anything he'd seen in Vale, made it ten times worse.

"Do it, son of Vale."

Still, he lingered. He met Saturos's gaze, his brown eyes meeting the Proxian's red ones.

"Despite your protestations, you are a child," Saturos said. "As with all children, you will learn through wisdom, or learn through pain. And we shall not head back to Prox until you have learnt."

So he had heard him. Sighing, Felix entered the tunnel. While it gave him some respite from the cold outside, the chill that ran through him here was ice of a more insidious touch. Even as Saturos sent a pair of fireballs, lightning the torches mounted on the walls.

"You've been here before," Felix said.

Saturos picked up one of the torches, smirking. "You think I led you through the snow without knowing where I trod?"

Felix said nothing. He wanted to say something, anything, to take the Mars adept down a peg, but memories of pain kept his tongue behind his teeth.

"This place is known to us," Saturos said. He walked in front of Felix and began marching down the tunnel. "Sacred, in a sense, as Mount Aleph is to your kind."

Felix noted the emphasis on "kind." And that Saturos had turned his back to him.

"Does it tempt you?" Saturos asked, still walking.

"Does what tempt me?"

"The sight of my back. The chance to plunge blade through my flesh."

"I don't have a blade."

"No. You don't." Saturos, still marching, glanced back at Felix with a smirk. "But the thought is in your mind, is it not? The chance to strike me down? To avenge yourself for three years of misery?"

Felix remained silent.

"No words? Well, that is your choice. If you spoke falsely, you might have risked seeing my own blade."

He kept marching.

"And if I spoke truthfully?"

"Then I would feel at ease." He chuckled, and as soft as it was, Felix could swear he heard an echo through the tunnel. "I would take an honest man that professes his hatred, rather than a dishonest man who hides it." He sighed. "You have not met Alex yet, have you Felix?"

"No, Saturos."

"No." The Mars adept sighed. "Another dishonest man, who is not so adept at lying that I don't see his dishonesty." He looked back at Felix. "You will see him soon, child of Vale."

"How soon?"

"Within the week, for it is at the new moon we sail to Angara." He smirked. "Does that excite you, child? The chance to see your homeland again?"

He remained silent.

"Well, think not of it for now. We are here."

'Here,' as it turned out, was the end of the tunnel. Felix noted that the ceiling was higher here, but otherwise, it was the same rock as all the other rock. Gingerly, he put his gloved hand against its surface.

The earth was…weak here, he noticed. Venus was his element, and as Saturos could summon fire, so too could he manipulate the building blocks of the world. He had honed his skills over three years, instructed by masters of the element of fire. He knew that his skills were as nothing compared to Saturos or Menardi, but still…

"You feel it, don't you?" Saturos asked.

Felix looked at the Mars adept. "What?"

"The earth. It is different, here. Would you like to know why?"

Felix nodded.

"Behold." Saturos rose his torch in front of one of the walls. "The last of a dead people whose misery the earth remembers."

Felix squinted through the gloom. His mouth dropped.

Carvings. Dozens of them. Showing various stick figures that he supposed were humans, or at least, humanoid. The Proxians never seemed to have an answer as to whether they were human or not, and he'd noticed that they seemed to resent being asked. But human or otherwise, he could recognise what the figures represented. Men. Women. Children.

"The A'reas," Saturos said. "A people not dissimilar from my own."

"And where are they now?"

Saturos glared at him. "Did you not hear me, son of Vale? I said they were the last."

"So, you mean…"

Saturos didn't answer. Instead, he carried his torch along. The first set of carvings showed the A'reas tending fields, raising cattle, building civilization. The next, showed them fleeing. Or running, because Felix couldn't see what they were fleeing from. Unless the setting sun was the source of their terror. Unless…

 _Oh._

"Over the years, we have told you the truth," Saturos said. He looked at Felix, and behind the Mars adept's eyes, Felix could see, nay, _feel_ the contempt the warrior had for him. "Alchemy is the lifeblood of Weyard. Without alchemy, the world dies. We die. _My people_ die."

"So you have said," Felix murmured.

Saturos spat at him. "Three years, and you refuse to relinquish the falsehoods of your elders. The ones who call themselves guardians of Mount Aleph. As if the elemental stars needed _guarding_." He took a step towards Felix, and for a moment, Felix feared that Saturos would use steel or fire. "You have lived in Prox for three years, Felix. Can you imagine the cost of thirty? To wake up every day in the north, knowing that you are part of a dying race, trapped at the tip of a dying world? That foolish men before you appointed themselves saviours?"

"…I know that by their words, they saved the world from the destruction alchemy wrought."

"And thus the quill of the victor worked its magic," Saturos sneered, before sighing, giving Felix a bit of hope for his chances of survival. "Well, indeed, perhaps there is truth to that. But you _are_ coming to Vale, whether you like it or not. Regardless of what you believe."

Felix didn't say anything. The truth was, after three years, he _was_ beginning to believe Saturos…sort of. It had been Puelle, most of all, that had told him of the sealing of alchemy. How over thousands of years, what had once been a great civilization in the north had whittled away to but a single village. Where tens of thousands had become a few hundred. It was the antithesis of what the elders of Vale said about alchemy, yet he couldn't help but wonder if Puelle spoke the truth. If Menardi spoke it. If _Saturos_ spoke it.

But he would never give Saturos that due, he told himself. Saturos had kidnapped him and his parents. Saturos and Menardi had unleashed the storm on Vale all those years ago. He would never give that bastard the satisfaction of agreeing with the truth he gave. Even as Saturos took his torch to the last set of carvings.

"And thus the A'reas met their end," Saturos said. "Hiding in the caves, like savages. Praying for the Golden Sun to rise. To restore alchemy to the world. To bring life, civilization, and glory to the realms of Men."

Felix looked at the painting – the stick figures had once stood tall and proud, but these ones were bent over. Smaller. A dying people. People he had never known, but people he reached out for. He put his hand to the rock wall, and recoiled – the earth was _weeping_.

"And the hope, ever at the end," Saturos said, taking his torch slightly to the right. "Oh for the sun to rise in the east, so that it may shine over every corner of the world."

The last sketch was a sun on the horizon. The stick figures were bowed in front of it, in…worship, he wondered? Prayer? The sun was the sun, but he suspected that wasn't a literal representation. Rather, it was the Golden Sun. The mythical object that would form the Stone of Sages, and restore alchemy to the world. For ill, or, according to Saturos, good.

"This place is important to my people," Saturos said. He lowered the torch and met Felix in the eye. "It is a reminder of a dead people. A reminder of what we may become." He sighed. "A reminder of what we must never be."

A silence lingered in the cave. Silence broken only by the crackle of the torch.

"Perhaps you believe me," Saturos said, his voice bereft of the contempt that usually laced his words. "Perhaps not. I don't doubt you hate me, and you are entitled to do so. And I shall not deny that I would not shed a tear were you and the ones who spawned you left this world today. If your town was wiped from the map."

"How kind of you," Felix said.

"Indeed," Saturos said sarcastically, before returning to his usual tone. "But as I said, I would rather work with an honest man. And having shown you the fate that awaits us all if alchemy is not restored to the world, I can only ask you to consider our story…honestly."

Silence lingered, if only for a moment.

"Well then," Saturos said. "Shall we return? The sun is already setting, and no doubt your parents are missing you."

"My parents miss a lot," Felix murmured.

"That is their luxury," Saturos said. "Some of us are without parents. Without those to give us love, or reason to return."

Felix said nothing – Saturos had never talked about his family. Menardi's only family was Karst, and Agito? Agito barely said anything.

"Do you pity me?" Saturos asked. "Well, do not waste your tears. My own are reserved for my own people, and nothing else."

"I don't pity you," said Felix.

"More truth. Good." Saturos nodded to the tunnel from whence they'd entered. "Now go."

Felix lingered for a moment, his eyes heading towards the rising sun. A sun that was scratched into the surface of the rock, black markings around it. A sun that was not red nor gold, but the colour of death. Of false hope, and the tears of a dead people.

 _I'm sorry._

He began to walk. Perhaps Saturos spoke truly, perhaps not.

But he, at least, could remain honest.

* * *

 _A/N_

 _Believe it or not, the idea for this came from the news that Nintendo had renewed the_ Golden Sun _trademark. Before you get excited like I did (for a few minutes), there's no indication that this is indicative of any fourth_ Golden Sun _game, that in likelihood, it is simply renewing the trademark lest it expire. But, still, Golden Sun...trademark...marking of a sun...geddit?_

 _No?_

 _Oh. :(_

 _On a related note, yes, this is the second time I uploaded it. The first time I accidentally uploaded a_ Game of Thrones _oneshot of the same name (two stories accidentally used the same file). I've uploaded it again. Apologies for any confusion._


End file.
